Pussy from Hell A Father Jack story
by jduggan
Summary: My kitties broke an antique lamp. I fantasize about sending them to Craggy Island....


Pussy from Hell. A Father Jack story.  
  
I do not own any of the Father Ted characters, I am just having a bit of fun. The kitties however, ARE mine, and shan't be suing me for defamation as I am keeping within character. Besides, I keep them in kitty treats and clean litter.  
  
  
  
Father Ted eyed the box with suspicion. It was addressed to Craggy Island, had no return address, had been thru several   
postal regions and worst of all, someone had punched airholes in the sides. "What the hell." Ted thought and opened the box.   
He was met with an explosion of fur as three indistinct blurs shot past him knocking him aside in their haste to be out.   
"Feckin' hell!" Ted shouted with surprise. He turned to see where they had gone, but now there was no sign of them save for   
tufts of fur floating in the air and an air of mustiness coming from the box. Ted decided it was time to go sober up Willie   
the Postman and see if some light could be shed on this mystery, besides, he could pick up a pack of fags on the way back.   
Maybe willie would stand him to a drink or two at the pub while they talked over the strange package. Make it worth the trip,   
anyway.  
  
  
After he left, They stirred. From under the furniture whiskered noses twitched, sniffing the strange air. They were not sure   
where they were, but they all knew that they must have done something bad to be here. The largest of the three, a longhair   
tuxedo with a white striped nose sprawled in front of the fireplace on it's back in front of the couch, claiming the space as   
it's own. Weighing in at fourteen pounds it looked like a throwrug with eyes. The second, a shorthair yellow and white mix,   
was sitting on the window sill looking out at the world. As it's gaze settled on the horizon, it noted that it was getting   
dark and soon it would be time.  
  
  
  
The third was small, and BLACK. She was sure they were here because of the glass incident, but it was not entirely her fault.   
She had found a foul smelling chair against the wall and had used her coloring to become one within it's shadows. She could   
sense something here, but being young, could not be sure what to call it.  
  
  
  
Father Jack came reeling out of the kitchen in search of..."DRINK!" He roared. As he luched into the living room his bleary   
eyes settled on somthing laying on the floor. Being used to hallucinations, this did not bother him too much, but this one   
was looking back at him, only upside down. It had a face that looked like the collar he was wearing, only much cleaner. Green   
eyes regarded bloodshot ones, "FECK OFF!" He yelled at it, The face immediatly took on a look of "oh shit" and it flipped   
itself to its feet, engaged it's claws, and in a spay of carpet and couch cushions hauled ass towards the door at warp six.  
  
  
Father Dougal, coming in from rollerblading, did not see the blur in time to register what it was, and was knocked off his   
feet and out cold in the doorway to the living room. Having left the door open, the cat was halfway across the island before   
Dougal's wheels had stopped turning. The second, decided to make his move and inform this new one of the time. He hops down   
and approaches. Yellow eyes lock in on the new one and he spoke: "Meowrowmewrowrr." (translation: it's dark out and time to   
go to bed so I can sleep on your feet.) Father Jack's brain having long ago deteriorated to critter level understood what was   
said, but he disliked being told it was bedtime by anyone. "ARSE!" Jack roared while looking for something to throw at the   
offending creature. Finding nothing he took off his shoe and in the time it took him to reaquire his target, the furry one   
had caught a whiff of Jacks toes. "Mrarprrprow!" (translation: no way in hell would I curl up with those!) As he franticly   
looked for an escape route, Mrs. Doyle came in with her inevitable tray of tea paraphenalia to investigate the strange sounds   
and more yelling than usual from the living room. The fuzzy streak that ran up her skirt and attached itself to her until   
now, uncharted thigh territory caused Mrs. Doyle to emit a shriek that killed three butterflies, caused a car to run off the   
road and was heard on the other side of the island. Father Dougal was almost, but not quite roused by Mrs. Doyles cry,   
twitched quietly on the floor as she fled back into the kitchen in terror.  
  
  
Father Jack turned around puzzled. His target no longer there, he wondered where it had gone, but unable to retain   
information, soon gave up. All this excitement called for a sit-down and a nice tall.. "DRINK!" Jack yelled, to no one in   
particular. As Jack approched his chair he was brought up short. Looking down and forcing his eyes to focus for a moment, he   
noticed that the shadow in his chair was looking at him with an unblinking green stare. Momentarily startled Jack summoned up   
a deep breath and let the evil presence he could feel eminating from his beloved chair know what he thought about being   
between him and a drink. "FECK! ARSE! BOLLOCKS!" Jack blasted at the evil one in his chair. It was not impressed.  
  
  
Reaching into the shadow, Father Jack lifted the little one up to his face and they regarded each other. Bad breath met worse   
breath as the strange communion took place. Mrs. Doyle crept up out of the kitchen door, momentarily free of her attacking   
demon in time to see the back of Father Jack and hear him exclaim, "PUSSY!" Mrs. Doyles eyes became saucer-like in terror,   
fearing Father Jacks vices had turned carnal, fled the room.  
  
Meanwhile, Father Jack and his handfull of midnight fluff were still locked in mental combat. Running out of patience, Jack   
tosses the fuzzball over his shoulder and sat in his chair. He did not have time to be startled as he soon found the small   
one standing on his chest, it's sharp claws keeping it in place. The black kitten knew she had found a kindred spirit. Jack   
looked at it, "PUSSY!" he yelled at it and was met with a quiet purr. Unsure, Jack reached out and gave it a rough pat. The   
little one curled up on his shoulder. If Father Jack's hearing had been functioning, he would have heard the small "piff"   
that escaped her, but as it was his nose that detected it and as his eyes teared over. "SHITE!" Yelled Jack. 


End file.
